The Key (16 page)

“But we have enough now, and the men don't bathe.”

“Becauseye haven't bathed. They are following yer example.” Suddenly impatient, he shook
his head with disgust. “Ye told me yersel' that yer wife smell of flowers, and judging by
the way ye said it I would guess it pleases ye. How would ye like it did she smell as ye
do?”

Duncangrimaced at that question, already knowing the answer. He had been repulsed by her
the day she had fallen in the manure, and he had been even more repulsed by Kelly's stench
and filth earlier that evening.

“There ye are, then.” Angus nodded at his son's telling expression. “Mayhap ye can then
understand why yer wife reacts to you as she does.”

Duncansighed his resignation at that but still complained, “But she is changing
everything. Da. Nothing seems the same since she arrived The keep is clean, the women are
clean and wear new plaids, the food is spiced, and my chamber is full of chests.”

“Aye.” Angus nodded solemnly. “Yer life has changed now that ye've taken a wife. But so
has hers. 'Tis the way of things. Ye need to accept that and make the best of it.”

“Perhaps,”Duncanmuttered unhappily.

“There is no perhaps about it, boy. As far as I can see, Iliana has done all that is in
her power to make our home more pleasant. Tell me, what have you done for her?”

“She's done it all fer hersel', not me,”Duncangrumbled, not ready to concede yet.

“Has she? Well now, I did not notice that she instructedElginto cook fine fare only fer
her but continue to offer slop to the rest of us. Neither did I notice that she had her
room cleaned but left the common rooms to ruin. Nay. In fact, my room was cleaned and
filled with fresh rushes just last week under yer lady wife's orders, and I ken that they
cleaned Seonaid's room, too, and yet they have not got to clean the one she and her mother
have been using. It seems to me she leaves the consideration of her own comfort last.”

Duncanwas silent, a startled look on his face. This was something he had to consider.

Iliana surveyed the room with displeasure. For two days she had lain in bed, staring at
the filthy rushes and stained tapestries of her husband's room. And for two days the sight
had stung her nerves like salt in a sore.

It was her own fault, she supposed. She had not really needed two days to recuperate from
her wound but had allowed herself to be persuaded to rest by her mother. In truth, she
supposed she had been hiding up here, just as she had been hiding up here while her mother
was ill. It had been easy to do. Once again,Duncanhad taken to sleeping in Seonaid's
vacant room, leaving her to her own devices. But then, everyone had seemed to leave her to
her own devices. Even her mother had not offered her company to pass the time and distract
her. According to Ebba, the woman was spending her time regaling either Duncan, Angus, or
both men with tales of Iliana's childhood. The very idea made her cringe.

This, the third morning after the attack, she had decided she'd had enough of lying about.
There were things to do. She had responsibilities. The first of which was to clean this
room. She only hoped it would not be as large a task as the great hall had been.

With that question uppermost in her mind, Iliana cleared a small space on the floor with
her foot to peer at the wood beneath the rushes. She nodded her satisfaction on seeing
that, while it was dusty, there was no sign of the hardened spills that had filled the
great hall.

“There is no need to scrub.”

Iliana glanced up and smiled slightly at her maid's relieved words. “Nay,” she agreed
easily. “Merely a good sweeping once the rushes are removed.”

Ebba sighed at that, and Iliana felt the chafe of guilt. The maid had been running up and
down the castle stairs for the last two weeks, fetching this or that; first for her
mother, then for Iliana herself.

“Laird Angus is arranging for men to fetch fresh rushes, but why do you not take the women
and go out and collect heather to add to them?” she suggested impulsively. “I shall see to
removing these and sweeping up.”

When Ebba glanced at her doubtfully, Iliana felt herself flush with shame. Ere coming
toDunbar, the woman would never have been surprised at the idea that Iliana was willing to
work. But she had done little real labor of late. Not for the last two weeks.

“Take your time,” she added firmly now. “The fresh air will do you good.” “You are sure?”
When she nodded, the maid beamed at her and hurried off.

Iliana turned to survey the room again, sighing as she realized just how much work she had
set herself up for. But she did not regret it. Her mother had taught her well the
importance of treating one's servants with consideration.

“What has you looking so thoughtful, daughter?”

Iliana glanced up as her mother entered the room and managed a smile. “Good morn, Mother.
How do you today?”

“Very well.” Pausing at Iliana's side, she kissed her cheek, then glanced about the room.
“Ebba has gone to collect some heather.”

“Aye. I sent her.”

“So she said. I sent Gertie with her,” Lady Wildwood murmured, then raised her eyebrows.
“With your maid gone, who is it you plan to have empty and sweep the room?”

“I thought to borrow some ofDuncan's men to move the chests but will remove the rushes
myself.” “What of your side?” “Gertie has put on a liniment to keep it from paining me. So
long as I do not overdo” “You shall not overdo because ye shall not do it.”

Iliana whirled toward the door at that announcement from her husband, and eyed him with
displeasure as his words sank in. “ Tis little enough effort to push a broom around,
husband. Surely”

“Then 'twill be easy work fer the men I send to do it.”

Iliana blinked at that, positive she had misunderstood. Had her husband, the man who
griped and complained about every spot of cleaning she instigated, just suggested he would
send some of his precious men to do it for her?

“ Tis most thoughtful of you, Duncan,” Lady Wildwood claimed when Iliana remained silent.
“But surely 'tis not necessary to waste the time of the men who work on the wall? Mayhap
the guards you have posted to watch me could”

“There is only one guard now,”Duncaninterrupted. “I sent one of the men to the kitchen to
breakfast.”

“Well, surely even one could”

“His job is to guard ye, and he'll do so. I'll take two men off the wall to see to this.”

Impossible! Iliana thought incredulously. She must have caught a fever. Her wound was
infected; she had caught a fever and was now hallucinating, she decided.

“Well.” Lady Wildwood frowned as her daughter remained mute, then sighed and offered
thanks for her. “ Tis obvious you have taken my daughter's breath away with your
generosity. The offer is greatly appreciated.”

Obviously disappointed by Iliana's silence,Duncanmoved forward and stooped to pick up the
only chest in the room that was his. Turning toward the door with it, he muttered, “I
shall remove this to my room, then send some men up to help with the rest.”

“Husband?”

Pausing in the doorway, he turned back, one eyebrow arching slightly.

Iliana hesitated, unsure what to say. He had yet to take a bath, and she did not wish to
unintentionally make an offer that she was not willing to keep. In the end, she hesitated
too long.

His mouth tightening, he shifted the chest impatiently in his arms. “If ye've naught to
say, I've better things to do than stand about”

Iliana caught a glimpse of motion over her husband's shoulder even as the words died on
his mouth. The next moment, he stumbled forward, the chest slipping from his hands and
falling open as it crashed to the ground. Its contents spilled across the floor, among
them a bottle that slid across the rushes to shatter against the wall, filling the room
with the biting scent of whiskey.

Iliana and her mother rushed forward asDuncancollapsed atop the now empty chest.

Kneeling on either side of his prone form, they peered at the blood gushing from his head,
then glanced to the door in unison as a lit torch flew into the room and the door slammed
closed.

Neither woman moved for a moment, shock holding them still as the far end of the room
exploded into

flame. The fire spread swiftly, rushing toward where she and her mother knelt by her
husband.

“Duncan?” Grabbing his arm, Iliana tried to turn him over but was unable to move his great
bulk until her mother added her own efforts. Once he was on his back, Iliana felt terror
well up within her as she saw the pallor of his complexion.

“He is alive, and we must get out of here.”

Her mother's calm words broke through her panic, and Iliana glanced toward the flames
licking their way toward them. Without discussing it, each of them got to their feet, took
one of his large hands in their own and dragged him across the rushes, panic seeming to
add strength to their efforts. At the door, Iliana reached out to press against the wooden
surface. Frowning when it did not open, she released the hold she had onDuncanand pressed
with both hands, but still the door stuck.

“What is it?” Her mother was at her side in an instant.

“It will not open.”

Lady Wildwood pushed against the door, paling when her daughter's words proved true.
“Someone has blocked it.” Pounding on the door, she yelled for her guard, but Iliana
stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“If he were out there, the room would not be afire.”

“Well, surely he would not leave?”

“Nay,” Iliana agreed, and her mother's eyes widened with understanding. The guard was
either dead or unconscious.

Turning away from her stark expression, Iliana peered toward the fire devouring the room.
Smoke was rolling across the ceiling above and she could see that her chests were already
in flames. Soon the blaze would reachDuncan's feet. The heat almost unbearable, Iliana
glanced frantically around the small section of room that was not yet on fire.

Lady Wildwood began to pound at the door again, screamng for assistance, but impatience
covered her face when she saw that her daughter had moved to the bedside. “What do you? We
must get some attention here.”

“The castle is practically empty. Mama. The women are out fetching fresh rushes and the
men are out practicing in the bailey. No one will hear us.”

Already pale with fear. Lady Wildwood blanched further. Whipping the linen off the bed,
Iliana hurried to drop it in the water she had used earlier for her ablutions, then just
as swiftly pulled the soaking material out and moved toward the fire to beat at the flames
with it. Her main concern was to keep the flames away fromDuncan; they were far too close
to his inert body for her liking.

Lady Wildwood quickly moved to collect the bottom linens from the bed. After dampening
them with what little water was left in the bowl, she moved to her daughter's side, but
Iliana shook her head and waved her away.

“Yell out the window,” she ordered, coughing. “We must get someone's attention.”

Wrapping herself in the wet sheet. Lady W'ildwood hurried to the window and screamed at
the men who worked below.

“They are coming,” she gasped a moment later, returning to Iliana's side and adding her
own efforts to battle the fire.

All of her concentration on the task she had set for herself, Iliana did not spare the
energy needed to acknowledge her mother's words.

The heat was scorching. The smoke, thick and black, was stealing her breath away,
hampering her efforts at fighting the flames. And hacking coughs were wracking her body as
the acrid air burnt her lungs. Iliana had never experienced fire before in such a manner;
it seemed almost to be alive. She would beat at one spot, damping the flames there, only
to find them turning their attack and seeming almost to tiy to nm past her. It was a war
she could not win and had little hope of holding off for any length of time at all did
help not come soon. Iliana had already been forced backward to stand directly before her
husband as she fought the flames. She was managing to slow the spread somewhat, but not by
much. In a moment she would be tripping over her husband's legs.

“Duncan.” The name came out on Iliana's cough, but her mother seemed to understand. Giving
up her weak efforts to aid in combating the fire. Lady Wildwood began tugging his legs
sideways, trying to shift them out of Iliana's path. She had managed to move them a bare
few inches when they both heard shouts and feet pounding up the hallway. In the next
second, the door crashed open and cool air rushed into the chamber. As if in response, the
fire Iliana faced jumped up and forward with a roar of fury.

Crying out, she stumbled backward, tripping over her husband's legs and tumbling to the
floor as her skirts went up in flames. She heard her mother's scream join her own; then
something heavy crashed down upon her, knocking the air out of her lungs and sending her
head bouncing back against the floor.

“She's awakening.”

Iliana opened her eyes at those words, wincing at the pain reverberating within her head
as she squinted against the light in the room.

“Thank God!”

Angus and her mother suddenly appeared above her from opposite sides, worry apparent on
their faces as they peered down at her.

“Are ye a'right, lass? Ye took a fair knock.”

Iliana blinked at those words from Angus, confusion her first reaction until she noticed
the burning pain in her lungs and recalled the fire.

“Duncan?” The name came out on a croak, and Iliana winced as she became aware of the pain
in her throat as well.

“He is fine.” Tears of relief filling her eyes. Lady Wildwood patted her shoulder. “And
you shall be too, now.”

“Aye,” Angus agreed, his own relief apparent. “ Tis lucky ye are. The room went up like a
torch.” Iliana closed her eyes at that, frowning. “I have never seen a fire spread so
quickly.” “Aye, well, it seemsuisgebeatha is fair flammable.” Iliana's eyes opened at
that. “Uisgebeatha? ”

'The bottle that rolled out ofDuncan's chest and smashed into the wall,“ her mother
explained. ” 'Twas uisgebeatha . Whiskey.Angus thinks 'tis why the fire spread so quickly.
The liquid went everywhere when the bottle shattered."

“Aye, it did.” “Hmmm. Well, that bottle was his birth batch.” Her eyebrows rose at that.
“Birth batch?”

“Aye. Tis a tradition me father's father started. A batch ofuisgebeatha is made the day
the heir to the chieftain is born and a bottle of it is given to 'em to save 'til the day
he takes over. Then he mourns his father's passing and his own raise in position with it.”

Iliana had already come to the conclusion that the Scots, or at least these particular
Scots, used any excuse they could to drink. Still, the bottle had been saved since his
birth, and he would most likely be furious at its loss. “IsDuncanvery upset?”

“He doesn't even ken yet. He hasn't awoken.” At Iliana's sudden alarm, he patted her arm
reassuringly. “Don't fash yersel'. He took a mighty kosh on the head is all. He'll wake
soon enough. In truth, he came through better than ye, I think.”

Iliana blinked at that. “What mean you, my lord? I was not harmed, other than the knock on
the head, and I am already awake.”

“Aye. That's true enough. Ye took no other injury... But ye do look kinda funny.”

Eyes shooting anxiously to her mother, she cauglit her glaring at Lord Angus and felt her
anxiety increase.

“ Tis your hair, dear,” Lady Wildwood murmured in resignation, catching Iliana's
expression “I fear 'tis a mite melted.” “Melted?” Iliana's eyes rounded at that.

“Aye, and ye've no eyebrows or lashes to speak of,” Angus added for good measure, his
smile becoming more sincere. Then, seeing her dismay, he cleared his throat. “Yer still
bonnie to me, lass. 'Sides, the hair'll doubtless grow back.”

“Where is she?”

They all stilled at that roar from the hallway. Then the door crashed open and both her
mother and Angus straightened to turn toward the sound.

Recognizing her husband's voice, Iliana felt a rush of both relief and panic. Relief
because it was obvious from the strength of his voice that Duncan was truly all right, and
panic because she did not wish him to see her if what Lord Angus said was true. Her hair
was melted and her eyebrows and eyelashes had been singed off by the fire? She could not
even imagine the sight she must be.

Grabbing for the bed linens that had been drawn up to her chin, she jerked them childishly
over her head and closed her eyes as she heard him stomp across the room.

Duncan's heart seemed to pause its pumping in his chest as his father stepped aside and he
saw the linen drawn up over the form on the bed. He had awoken only moments before to find
himself in his father's bed, his head pounding with a vicious beat that seemed to make his
very teeth ache. Allistair and Ebba had been standing on either side of him His cousin had
managed a smile of relief when his eyes opened, then announced he would go inform Angus
that he was awake. ButDuncanhad called him back as he moved away and questioned what had
happened.

The explanations had stunned him mightily. He recalled standing in the doorway to his own
chamber, about to leave, but that was all. Being told that someone had apparently struck
him over the head and tossed a lit torch and bottle ofuisgebeatha into the room, then
blocked him, his mother-in-law, and his wife into the room to die a fiery death had been a
shock. Learning that Iliana had tried to fend off the fire with wet linen while her mother
shouted out the window for help had raised some pride in him for her ingenious thinking.
But when Allistair had told him that Iliana had been engulfed by flames when they crashed
into the room, nothing could have kept him in the bed. Not the throbbing in his head, not
the dizziness that had assailed him as he rose, nor the way his vision had blurred
frighteningly as he had stumbled out into the hall.

Only the sight of her shrouded body could bring him to a halt as the fact hit him that she
was dead. He should not be so affected by her death, he knew. She had not been a good
wife. She'd refused him his rights and done exactly as she'd pleased despite his orders to
the contrary. And yet, his brain seemed suddenly full of her. He recalled with crystal
clarity the day she had arrived. He remembered her false bravado as she had refused him
his rights the morning after their wedding, saw her face alive with intelligence and good
humor as she had spoken with Lady Mclnnes, smelled the flowery scent that clung to her and
felt her in his arms, shivering with desire. He heard her passionate moans in his ears,
followed by breathless laughter as he had... loved her? Aye, he'd loved her.

Swallowing thickly, he took the last step to the bed and tugged the linen slowly down to
reveal her features now. He did not know what he expected. Chaired flesh, he supposed. The
rancid stench of death... He certainly did not expect to see her lying with her eyes
clenched shut and her nostrils flaring as she breathed.

“Yer alive!”

Iliana's eyes blinked open in surprise. It had not occurred to her that her husband might
assume she was dead. Now, however, the stunned little-lost-boy-quality to his voice drew
her eyes to his face. Relief, joy, then confusion flickered over his face before settling
finally into a perplexed frown.

“What be the matter with ye? Ye look funny somehow.” Tilting his head to the side, he
narrowed his gaze, noting the hair that usually flowed sweet and fresh about her head
appeared to have shrunk and melted somewhat. There were clumps of it laying about her
pillow. From the fire, he realized, but could

not pinpoint what else it was about her that looked so odd. Then it struck him. “Yer
eyebrows and lashes are gone!”

Iliana groaned and tugged the linen back up over her head.

She heard Angus's voice chiding her husband, “What the devil be the matter with ye, lad?
Guard yer tongue! Ye'll hurt her wee feelings.” There was a pause, and then her
father-in-law spoke again toDuncan . “Come along, you. Ye shouldna be up. We'd best git ye
back to bed ere ye fall over.” She heard them move toward the door. “How's yer head?”

“Achin',” she caughtDuncanmutter, and she fought the urge to peer out at him. “Aye, well.
We'll pour someuisgebeatha into ye and fix ye up right fine.” Duncan's only response was a
grunt.

Sighing with relief as she heard the door close behind the two men, Iliana lowered the
linen. A touch on her hair brought her glance to her mother. Her expression as she
caressed the damaged tresses was mournful.

“Is it very bad?” Lady Wildwood smiled wryly at that, then nodded. “Aye, I fear so.”
Iliana shifted in the bed, then asked, “What of my eyebrows?”

'Those will grow back. We must just be grateful that you were not burned. Your gown went
up in flames. Had Angus not been a quick thinker and covered you with his own body to
smother the flames..."

“Aye. We are fortunate to even be alive.” She closed her eyes wearily, then popped them
back open. “What of the guard?”

“His throat was slit.”

Iliana blanched and her mother nodded solemnly. “The worst of it is that Greenweld's man
is still out there. Angus had the men search the keep again, then searched the inner and
outer bailey, but they could not find him. Whoever he is, he is clever.”

“You found nothing?”

Angus nodded unhappily at his son's question. “We even searched the keep again but found
nothing that would hint that there was anyone here who should not be.”

“Damn.” “He is clever, I shall give him that.” “Too damn clever,”Duncanmuttered bitterly.
“He almost succeeded this time.” “Aye. Were it not for the fact that Iliana and her mother
remained calm, I should have lost all o' ye.” He

shuddered even as he said the words, butDuncandid not notice. He was sunk in bitter
reflection.

“Once again I failed to protect her. 'Twill not happen again. I shall not leave her side
until the bastard is found.”

Angus frowned as his son got to his feet. “But I thought we had agreed 'twas her mother
the man is after.”

Duncannodded. “Unfortunately, me wife seems to be cursed with the dubious skill of getting
in the bastard's way. Repeatedly. So, I will guard me wife. Her mother is yer problem.”

“My problem?” he asked warily.

“Aye. As me wife, Iliana's safety is my problem. As laird here, her mother's safety is
yours.” He grinned suddenly. “Guard her well. Iliana would be mighty upset with ye did ye
let her mother come to harm.” Turning on that note, he headed up the stairs, leaving his
father staring after him.

“My problem,” Angus muttered again, then glanced up as Allistair entered the room.

“I have informed the men that we would be searching the woods on the morrow. Is there
anything else ye wish from me ere I retire?”

“Aye. Fetch one o' the men to me. I would have a guard at Lady Wildwood's door this” He
paused, suddenly recalling the sweet smell of her as he had held her in his arms earlier
that day, soothing her and reassuring her that her daughter would be well. Iliana had been
covered with soot at the time, her gown in scorched tatters about her body as Gertie had
worked over her. Despite his worry over his daughter-in-law, Angus had found it difficult
not to notice the sweet scent of the woman in his arms, and how good she felt there.

“Ye wish a guard fer Lady Wildwood this night?” Allistair asked when Angus continued to
sit, lost in thought.

Giving his head a shake, the older man blinked at his nephew, then stood. “Nay. Nay. I'll
tend to it mesel'. There is naught else this evening. Ye may go to yer bed. Sleep well,”
he added as the younger man nodded and turned away.

Reaching for his tankard of whiskey, he downed a good deal of it, then set it aside and
got to his feet. Straightening the English surcoat he wore, he headed up the stairs,
planning what he would say as he walked. He would announce that he felt she needed a guard
and as laird it was his duty. He would insist on having the maid dismissed and on himself
sleeping on the servant's pallet in the room. 'Twould be an uncomfortable bed, but he
could see to her safety. Besides, mayhap she would offer him a more comfortable
alternative.

It seemed to Iliana that her mother had barely left the room when the door was opened
again, this time forDuncanto enter. Iliana eyed him uncertainly as he crossed the room,
trying to gauge the reason for his presence.

“Yer hair.”

Iliana reached up to touch her shorn locks self consciously. Her mother had cut most of it
off, and her hair now reached no further than her chin and curled about her head in a most
un tame fashion. "It is very

short," she murmured uncomfortably when he merely stared at her.

“Aye.”

Iliana let her hands drop to her lap and stared at them unhappily. Perhaps it was the
after-effects of the fire. Or perhaps it was the stress caused by the two attacks and her
worry for her mother, but Iliana suddenly found her vision blurring with tears. They
pooled at the comers of her eyes and began to leak down her cheeks.

Spotting the droplets of water slipping down her face,Duncanmoved quickly forward. After a
hesitation, he sat carefully on the side of the bed and reached out uncertainly to grasp
her hands where they rested in her lap.

Iliana blinked her eyes, clearing her vision enough that she could see the large, clean
hand holding hers, but that only made her ciy harder. “You bathed,” she sobbed.

Duncan's eyes widened in surprise at her wail, and he peered at himself curiously for a
moment; then understanding covered his features. “I was most like covered with soot. They
must have cleaned me up while I was unconscious.”

The last word had barely left his lips when his wife suddenly slid a hand around his head,
turned him toward her, and drew his face down to hers.Duncanwas so stunned by the action
and the passion of her kiss as her lips slid hotly across his, that he merely sat frozen,
hardly breathing as she slid her tongue into his mouth. He was actually afraid to move,
afraid that it would bring this stunningly sweet interlude to an end.

Misunderstanding his lack of reaction, Iliana tugged her mouth away and leaned her
forehead on his chest, shuddering with silent sobs. It seemed she could do nothing right.
Her marriage was in ruins as far as she could tell and 'twas all her fault. She'd been
unreasonable. Most men did not bathe much. She'd been to court. She knew the nobility had
a distrust of bathing.

In truth, while the others had stank to Iliana, she had always felt to be the one out of
place. Seonaid had been right about Iliana's having had a lonely childhood. She had not
had friends. Even at court she had not been allowed to play. She had only been able to
stand and wistfully watch as the other children had raced about, muddying their good
clothes and laughing. Now, as an adult, she seemed to be repeating that part of her life.
Standing by and watching wistfully as her husband took on a mistress who had no problem
with his smell and most likely stank herself. Why could she not be like others?